Free 3 The Chain of Lies by Debra Burroughs Page A

walked with him to baggage claim.
    “Maggie and I had an awesome time, Uncle Peter. Didn’t we, Maggie?”
    Maggie walked with Camille and Jonathan, just a few steps behind Peter and Molly.
    Peter turned and glanced over his niece’s head, in Maggie’s direction, as they walked toward the baggage carousel. “What did you girls do?”
    “Oh, we laid out on the beach at Waikiki,” Molly explained. “We hiked up on Diamond Head, we took a helicopter tour of the island, we went to Pearl Harbor, we ate tons of pineapple—oh, lots of things.”
    “Sounds like a blast,” he commented.
    “It totally rocked!” Molly exclaimed, looking up at her uncle with a huge grin.
    He smiled back at her.
    “Did it rock, Maggie?” Peter asked, turning his head again toward her.
    “Totally.” Maggie broke out in a smile.

 
    CHAPTER 8
     
    Saturday rolled around and it was time for Emily to fulfill her promise to Camille. She and Molly filled in as servers at the Zigon Corporation’s Gala at the Hilton Hotel. After hours on her feet, Emily was ready for the evening to be over.
    Once most of the guests had left, she and Molly headed to the ladies room to freshen up. As they entered the restroom, they heard the sound of someone weeping in one of the three stalls. They glanced suspiciously at each other. Before either could utter a word, a beautiful young Asian woman in a sexy, short black dress and strappy high-heeled shoes opened the door to one of the stalls. She stepped out, carefully dabbing her eyes with a piece of toilet paper, as if she was trying not to ruin her considerable eye makeup.
    “Are you okay?” Emily stepped close and asked her in a calm, sympathetic tone.
    Her eyes were lowered and she seemed reluctant to meet Emily’s gaze. Before the young woman could respond, another Asian woman, this one middle-aged and wearing a khaki pantsuit and an angry expression, shouted something curt to the younger female in their native language. The young lady nodded her head, as if she was agreeing to the woman’s harsh words. The older woman grabbed the girl by the arm and practically dragged her out of the bathroom, continuing the tongue-lashing.
    “What on earth was that about?” a wide-eyed Molly questioned.
    “I have no idea.” Emily shrugged.
    “Looks like that girl was in trouble with her mother.”
    “Could be,” Emily muttered, looking toward the door before turning to the sink to wash her hands. “I remember one time my mom caught me dressed like that. I had snuck out on a date with an older boy that my folks didn’t approve of.” Emily grabbed a couple of paper towels and dried her hands. “My mom marched right out onto the dance floor and grabbed me by the arm. Then she dragged me out to the car. She and my dad grounded me for a month.”
    “How old were you?” Molly asked.
    “Fifteen.”
    “Well, that girl was a lot older than that,” Molly commented. “She looked at least eighteen or nineteen to me.”
    “I don’t think so. She was wobbling on those heels like she wasn’t used to wearing them. And that sexy dress and all that make up could make any teenage girl look older.”
    “I’d hate to be the guy she was with if my mom had caught me doing that.”
    “You’re right,” Emily laughed. “Camille would rip him a new one, not to mention what your dad would do to him.”
    ~*~
    A few days later, Molly phoned Emily and asked if she’d go shopping with her. Camille’s birthday was coming up and Molly wanted help to find a gift for her mom.
    “Why don’t I pick you up tomorrow after you get home from school, say four o’clock, and we’ll head for the mall,” Emily suggested. “We can get something to eat at the food court—my treat.”
    “Sounds cool. See you at four.”
    As promised, Emily stopped by to collect Molly for their shopping date. Rather than Emily driving, Molly insisted they take her new car. Her dad had just bought her a small, economical late-model compact to drive to